Chapter 2

2.

For a moment, it felt like a needle had pierced my heart.

I gripped the hem of my shirt, my fingers shaking.

"It's not about money. It's the Hudson Yards project. My father..."

He slammed his fork down. "That project is worth thirty million dollars. Do you really think you're worth that much?"

I lowered my head, unable to meet his eyes.

I knew I wasn't.

But a few days ago, my father had literally knelt before me.

"Daughter, I owe millions to the wrong people! This project is the only thing that can save the company!"

"Think about your grandmother. She needs her medical treatments. I need that money to keep her alive!"

I lost count of how many times he used my grandmother to blackmail me.

After my mother died, my father brought home a stepmother and a son my age.

My stepmother treated me like trash, screaming at me if I even took an extra piece of bread. My father didn't care; he only cared about how much he could squeeze out of me.

Only my grandmother used her secret savings to put me through college.

I hated my father with every fiber of my being, but I was powerless.

"I'm sorry... please..." I murmured, my head hanging low.

Xavier suddenly flipped the table. Porcelain shattered everywhere, making Annabelle scream in terror.

I wanted to run, but fear nailed me to my chair. I watched, trembling, as Xavier's hand lunged toward me.

"Vanya, all you do is beg for money and projects! Do you think this used-up body of yours is actually worth something?"

He dragged me upstairs and slammed me against the bathroom vanity.

"I'm sorry! I was wrong! Please stop!" I sobbed, begging for mercy.

He didn't stop. He roughly tore my clothes off, forcing me to look at myself in the mirror.

"Look at your pathetic self! Is it true that as long as someone pays, you'll let them do anything to you?"

"How are you any different from the girls on the street corner?!"

My legs gave out from the pain, but he held me pinned in a humiliating position.

"I'm sorry... please let me go."

But he was like a madman. He ignored my screams, taking me over and over―from the vanity to the tub, then to the bed, and finally against the window.

I was on the verge of fainting, but he refused to end the nightmare.

Finally, he dragged me downstairs like a discarded corpse and threw me into the main lobby of the building.

My body was covered in purple bruises, and my clothes were in rags. I tried to curl up to hide myself, but it was useless.

Staff members hurried by, averting their eyes while whispering loudly enough for me to hear.

"Isn't that the boss's wife?"

"Did she get caught cheating or something?"

In the past, no matter how angry Xavier was, he always gave me a shred of dignity in public. We always played the happy couple.

But now, he stood over me with a cold, dead stare.

"You want the Hudson Yards project?" he sneered. "Fine. Crawl around this lobby once on your knees, and it's yours."

When I didn't move, he kicked my shoulder hard.

"I said crawl!!"

I froze, then grit my teeth and pushed myself up. I started to move, one agonizing inch at a time.

People stepped aside as I passed, but their words stung like wasps.

"Mr. Sterling has spoiled her for ten years. She's so ungrateful to ask for a national-level project. She's insane."

"That project is a gold mine. Some women just don't know when to stop."

Every word felt like a physical wound.

But I couldn't stop. For my grandmother's sake, I had to finish this.

Suddenly, I heard a sharp crack.